Distractions
by Loki'sRose
Summary: Pippin tries to distract himself from his guilt over Gandalf's death


Disclaimer: All characters belong to JRR Tolkien (and whoever owns the movie, which isn't me). No profit being made. Pippin's song by Rachel Jackson.  
Notes: Eternal thanks and gratitude to my sister Rachel for the song, and to Mouse Carcass, Leah and Megan for beta-reading. You are truly wonderous! I owe you my life. :)

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Distractions

Peregrin Took is good at distracting himself. He shuts his mind down and refuses to think about big black wells and broken bridges and kind-eyed wizards bringing fireworks to the Shire and the voices in his head that scream "all your fault". Pippin doesn't want to think about that, so he distracts himself by pestering Legolas about Lothlorien, and tries not to think.

"Have you been there before?" he asks, half-skipping to keep up with the tall Elf. "How many times? What's it like? Do you have a girl there? Bet you do!" 

The Elf ignores him, tired of repeating that he's never been to the Golden Wood. He stalks over to walk beside Gimli, who is still mourning for the Dwarves of Moria. 

Merry nudges Pippin. "Looks like you hit a nerve!" he whispers. "Guess he does have a girl in Lorien!" Merry laughs, and Pippin laughs too. 

"What's she like?" he calls after the Elf. "Does she like you? Or – oooh, is it the Queen? I heard she's really beautiful!" 

"It is not wise to speak of the Lady Galadriel in that manner," says Legolas, without turning around. 

"Elven witch," mutters Gimli, but he's obviously just trying to distract himself, so Legolas pretends he hasn't heard. 

Pippin starts to sing over and over again, his voice set at that high pitch that drives out all thought: 

__

"Lady Galadriel is beautiful and tall,

My friend Legolas loves her best of all! 

Running through the forest, as fast as fast can be,

He can shoot anything, but he'll never hit me!"

The Elf finally turns around, and his usual good humour is noticeably absent. "If you say that one more time, I will put an arrow through your tongue to silence you."

"Here, that's not very nice," protests Merry. But Pippin is unfazed. 

"Then I shall hide behind Strider to finish my song," he declares. 

"Aragorn is thin, I can shoot around him." 

"Then I'll hide behind Boromir," Pippin counters. Legolas draws his bow. Pippin ducks behind the Man of Gondor, who promptly moves away, bowing politely to the Elf as he does so. Without cover, Pippin throws up his arms in dismay. 

"Oh help me, Merry, I am under attack! Sound the horn! Defend me!" 

Merry pats him on the shoulder. "Sorry, Pip. The Horn of Buckland's only for emergencies."

"What horn is this?" asks Boromir, suddenly interested. 

Merry smiles up at him. "We Brandybucks have a horn to sound when danger threatens the Shire. It doesn't happen often, though. The Shire's a quiet place."

"But you should hear it!" adds Pippin enthusiastically. "Awake! Fear! Fire! Foes! Awake!" he trumpets through his hands. Boromir chuckles. 

"Very wise," he says. "Gondor, too, has a horn to sound in times of trouble, and I carry that. But it won't come to your aid today, either," he jokes, wagging a finger at Pippin. 

"I should like to hear it, though," says Pippin wistfully, Legolas and his bow completely forgotten at this new distraction. "They say the horn of Buckland echoes all up and down the Brandywine, it must be a marvellous thing. Every time I visit Merry, I hope there'll be cause to blow it. You would like the Shire, Boromir, it's–"

"Stop!" cries Frodo, and Pippin shuts up immediately at his friend's sharp tone. Behind him, Sam glowers, but keeps his rebuke to himself. He doesn't need to say anything. They both know the Shire is very far away, and Frodo has a long way yet to go. 

Pippin casts around for some other topic to discuss, one that won't distress Frodo, but none come to mind. Such seriousness makes it hard to ignore the heavy stone grief pressing down on his heart – "Fool of a Took!"

There are no words, no distractions. The Fellowship walks on in silence. Pippin picks a stone up off the road, squeezing it in his hand. Merry is watching him with that slightly worried look that tells him his cousin isn't fooled by his determinedly happy face. Pippin throws the stone at a tree on the roadside. It bounces loudly, and he bends for a second one, but again he is told "Stop!," this time by Strider. 

"We don't want to attract any attention before we reach Lothlorien."

Silence hangs in the air, but Pippin recognises the words that should be filling it – "Haven't you done enough damage?" 

He lets the stone fall back onto the road and meekly follows the others. They watch him out of the corners of their eyes, and he tries to think of some cheerful thing to chatter to them about, but home is far away and makes Frodo sad, and there's nothing else he knows well enough to talk about. 

Unexpectedly, a large hand squeezes his shoulder. "Well, little friend," says Boromir, "you've told me of these horns of Buckland, but let me tell you now of the Horn of Gondor, the Defense of the White City of Minas Tirith, the Tower of Guard." 

Boromir speaks of the days of old, and the wonders of his homeland. And Merry asks intelligent questions about the Horn, and Pippin asks unintelligent ones and elbows Merry to whisper, "sounds like Boromir the tour guide!" when the Man of Gondor describes his home, and Merry tries not to laugh. And something resembling normality returns to the Fellowship. And Pippin knows that this is just a distraction, that it cannot change what has come to pass or still the despair in his heart. But he knows that he is being distracted, and he is grateful.


End file.
